


Little Miracles

by scarletladyy



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fertility Problems, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-27
Updated: 2010-08-27
Packaged: 2017-10-11 06:50:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletladyy/pseuds/scarletladyy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron and Hermione have been trying for a baby for nearly two years now, and Ron comes to the realisation that they have to see if there's something wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Miracles

"Seriously, guys," Ron said as he choked back another shot of vodka. "This is getting really out of hand."

Seamus laughed and nearly spurted out his drink. "Mate, you're getting sex several times a week! I don't see a problem here."

"Sex on a schedule is not erotic," Ron said, his watch glowing bright red to signal he was wanted by Hermione again. "Looks like I have to go have sex."

"You can't complain about getting sex, mate," said Harry, taking a sip of his beer. "At least you're getting some -- how many of us do you reckon are? I'm certainly not."

"But --" Ron started to argue, but was shot down by everyone at the table.

"Ah, ah," Dean chimed in, "no buts."

Seamus snorted. "Hey, Ron, looks like your missus wants you!"

"Huh?" said Ron, looking around confused until he saw Hermione storming towards him from the Floo in the far corner of the pub. "Oh, crap."

"Ronald Bilius Weasley! Didn't you see your watch or are you far too preoccupied trying to decrease our chances of conceiving?"

Embarrassed, Ron grabbed his coat and downed the last shot of vodka on the table; he'd certainly need it. "I'm coming, I'm coming."

"Have fun, mate," Seamus said, nudging Dean and trying to stifle laughter, though failing miserably.

_Shit_, Ron thought as Hermione gasped.

"You _told_ them?" Hermione stamped her foot in a temper and folded her arms crossly. "I can't believe you told them!"

As she started to storm off, Ron said something he knew he'd later regret, particularly with the amount of hope in his voice. "So, shall I stay here then? Are we not having sex now?"

"Oh, no," Hermione shouted, the whole pub going quiet at the ruckus being caused. "We're having sex all right."

Ron sighed. "She's wearing me out," he muttered to Harry on the way to the Floo. The last thing he heard before he left the pub was his mates laughing -- Hermione was treating him as though he was whipped. He didn't like it, in fact he hated it, but he knew getting pregnant was important to her, and it just wasn't happening. It had been well over a year since she'd been off the pill, and still not one sign of a baby. Not that they hadn't been having sex -- of course they had. At scheduled times, just like now, and at the very least twice a day.

It just wasn't as fun when it was scheduled though; especially not when Hermione was so stressed she tried to get it over and done with as soon as possible. She'd gone from a loving, sensual woman -- which had taken years for Ron to unlock -- to being uptight and frumpy, and only having sex because they had to, and not when he was in the mood.

"On the bed," Hermione said when he reached the bedroom, and he saw the fury in her eyes as she lay on the bed, naked but covered by their duvet.

"I'm sorry, love," he said softly, slowly undressing. He sighed inwardly as he saw she still hadn't gotten rid of the charts and plans around the room. He'd asked her to because they just weren't a turn on, but she didn't seem to be having any of it.

"Hurry up!" she moaned, and Ron honestly wondered how he was going to get an erection when she was in this mood. "We were supposed to be having sex fifteen minutes ago, but of course, you had to be at the pub."

"That's it," Ron snapped, putting his clothes back on.

"What are you doing?" Hermione said, shooting up into a sitting position and baring her breasts for a second.

"I'm not horny and I'm certainly not having sex with someone who speaks to me like that," said Ron, asserting himself in a way Hermione had rarely seen. "If you want to be nice to me, then we can have sex." There was no stopping him as he rampaged threw the flat to the Floo, and stormed back into the pub to rejoin his friends.

"Bloody hell," Seamus laughed. "That was quick!"

"We didn't do anything," he muttered, folding his arms tightly and looking around grumpily.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Why not? I remember a time you'd put up with anything for sex."

"That was then," said Ron, shrugging as he took a sip of his pint that was where he left it. "I know she's stressed because we've been trying for so long and nothing's happened, but she doesn't need to be a bitch about it."

"Maybe you need to see someone, a specialist, perhaps?" Harry said quietly, and an awkward silence fell around the table.

Until Seamus piped up. "Yeah, maybe your cock ain't working properly!"

"Maybe it's not me," Ron said bitterly at the suggestion that it was _him_ who was the problem. He looked around to see everyone avoiding his gaze; nobody really wanted to touch on the note that something serious might be wrong. Seamus was the only one able to make a joke out of it, and he looked as though he regretted it now. "Can we just change the subject? Talk about women you'll never get to sleep with, or something?"

"'Course, mate," Dean said faintly, before boring everyone _again_ with the fact that he was in love with someone and they didn't know it. Everyone else knew it, everyone at this table knew it, except of course the recipient, Seamus, who still hadn't cottoned on that the cocky, Irish geezer Dean kept mentioning was him.

Ron stayed late in the pub that night, but unlike his mates, he hardly drank anything. He wanted to be sober for the conversation he knew Hermione would insist upon before they slept, because he knew he had some input of his own. They'd been trying for a baby since well before the Christmas before last. They both knew something was wrong, and several months ago Hermione had brought in her sex timetable for when she was best fertile, but they'd never discussed the issue properly.

It was almost tabboo, as though the idea that something could be wrong meant that there was, and Ron knew neither of them wanted to face that. They both wanted children, they always had, and now was the right time, yet they didn't seem to be coming. As he entered the Floo, he mentally prepared himself for his part, hoping to go first before she stopped him with an argument about him being out so late. He didn't expect that when he came out of their own Floo in the living room that she'd be sat stony faced on the sofa, staring into the fireplace as though it held all the answers.

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked quietly, her eyes trained into the wild movements of the fire in front of her.

"I have something important to say," Ron said, before she riled him up. "I need to say it now."

"Why? Why can't it wait?"

Ron knew if they just kept going on and on as they were, the only chances of having a baby were by miracle. "It just can't. Look, we've been trying for months and --"

Hermione's gaze instantly shifted at the mention of the word '_trying_', and she shot up, heading for the bedroom as she spoke. "I'm tired, Ron. Let's discuss this another time."

"No," said Ron, a little more forcefully than he had intended. It stopped Hermione in her tracks and she turned around, sitting on the arm of the sofa. "We need to talk about this now. If there's a problem --"

"There isn't," Hermione said quickly. "There can't be."

Ron sighed. "There might be. We have to accept the possibility that something could be wrong."

"I don't want to," Hermione said softly, a solitary tear running down her cheek. "I want to have children, Ron, I _need_ to. I don't know what I'll do if something is wrong..."

"Hey, hey," Ron said kindly, walking over to her and pulling her into a bear hug. "We can get through this, Hermione."

Hermione started to sob into his shoulder, speaking almost illegibly. "Th-h-anks, Ron."

"But we do need to see someone," he said quietly but firmly as she started to shake her head. "Just so we know. I'm sure there's nothing wrong, but it's better to know, love. How about I book the appointment tomorrow?"

It took several minutes before Hermione agreed to it, but Ron knew it was the right thing to do. They couldn't carry on as they were, getting more stressed and upset with each other, wondering who was to blame and why. That wouldn't help matters at all.

*

Ron and Hermione sat in the waiting room nervously; Ron shuffling about in his seat and Hermione wringing her hands. It was their first meeting with their doctor about what they could do, and Ron had almost had to drag Hermione there.

"Mr and Mrs Weasley, if you'd like to come this way, please," Doctor Baxter called through the waiting room.

Immediately Ron stood up, but Hermione was hesitant. "Come on, love," Ron said, smiling at her. She didn't say anything, but she did take his outstretched hand.

"Right," Dr Baxter said as he opened up a case file. "I hear you're having some trouble conceiving?"

Ron nodded. "That's correct."

"How long have you been trying?"

"Well over a year," said Hermione, avoiding looking at anyone.

"How regularly have you been having intercourse?" Dr Baxter asked as he scribbled something down.

Hermione blushed and spoke quietly. "Every day for the last six months, and before that several times a week."

"You're desperate to have a baby, I take it?" Dr Baxter smiled as Hermione nodded. "We'll see what we can do then. I'll refer you to the hospital; you'll need to have several tests done."

"What like?" Ron piped up, hating tests of any kind.

"Blood tests, sperm tests, Chlamydia tests," Dr Baxter turned his attention to Hermione, "and possibly an ultrasound or an X-Ray."

Ron cleared his throat. "And if you don't find anything?"

"There are more tests we can try, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Here," he handed Ron a card with a date and time on. "That's your hospital appointment for your blood and sperm tests. The doctors there will give you the other appointments if they're needed."

"Thanks, Doctor," Ron said as he stood up and shook his hand. Hermione was already out of the door by the time he'd turned around. "Are you all right?" he asked gently when he caught up to her in the pale blue hallway.

"Of course," Hermione snapped, glaring at him. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

*

Ron munched on his toast as he watched Hermione pace up and down the hallway in frustration. "Have some breakfast."

"No," she said quickly, her restlessness extremely apparent. "We were supposed to get the results yesterday. Where are they?"

"They're probably just late," Ron shrugged. "You know what the post is like."

"But this is important!"

"Try telling Postman Pat that," Ron laughed, then realised this wasn't an appropriate time. He was highly relieved when he heard the clatter of letters fall to the floor through the letterbox, and watched, amused, as Hermione scurried to collect them.

"It's here! It's here!" she called through into the kitchen, ripping open a letter with _Confidential_ on the front. Ron watched her face to see if he could decipher how the results went, but she didn't give anything away.

"Well?" he prompted, after about five minutes of her staring at the letter.

Hermione shook her head. "Everything came back fine. They didn't have a problem."

"Oh," he replied quietly, picking his toast apart. "What now?"

"They want me to go back to the hospital for an Hysterosalpingogram."

"Is that the X-Ray Dr Baxter mentioned?" Ron looked up at his wife to see tears in her eyes as she threw the letter to the ground. "Hey, hey," he said softly as he got up and walked over to her. "I'll be with you, everything will be fine. Trust me."

"Trust you?" Hermione yelled, pulling out of his grasp. "How can I _trust you_? You're not a Doctor! You don't know this is going to be fine, Ron, so don't say it will because it might not be!"

Ron looked at the ground, unsure of how to react or what to do. The results showed they thought it was a problem with Hermione, which was what they were most afraid of. If they couldn't fix it, he wasn't sure how they were going to cope with that. "When is the appointment?"

"Next week," she snapped back. "I want to go on my own."

Ron shook his head. "No, you don't. Don't say --"

"Yes I do, Ron!" Hermione stormed out of the room, banging each step as she went upstairs.

*

Ron stared at the clock on the wall, watching the seconds hand go by without taking his eyes off it. He really hadn't wanted to let Hermione go on her own, but she'd insisted and insisted, and even got up before him this morning to sneak out. He knew where and when the appointment was, knowing she'd be walking into the hospital as he sat there, but he was still in two minds whether to go or not.

After a couple of minutes, Ron made his decision, standing up and getting his coat. He had to be with his wife during this time; he knew she needed him, she was just too embarrassed and ashamed that they might find something wrong with her to admit it.

"Hermione!" he called as he walked into the reception area of the hospital, looking around with desperation. He really hoped he wasn't too late. "Excuse me, Miss, do you know where Hermione Weasley is?"

The nurse looked over her red glasses at him, annoyed that he'd come into the hospital and disturbed them with his shouts. "Down the hall and to the right, in the Radiology department. She should be in the waiting room."

"Thanks," he said quickly, running down the hallway and turning right. He ran straight into a large, open room full of chairs and tables, finding Hermione straight ahead of him. He stood in the doorway for a few moments, just watching her play with her hands and stare down at her feet. Her body language said she was nervous and needed someone, and Ron knew that someone was him. "Hey," he said quietly.

Hermione looked up, and on seeing it was him she smiled brightly. "Ron! I'm so glad you came."

"I couldn't leave you to go through this on your own," he said as he hugged her tightly. "I'll always be here for you, you know that."

"Hermione Weasley?"

Ron turned to see a red-haired woman calling his wife's name. She had a clip board and was pointing towards the double doors behind her. "I'll still be right here when you get back," he smiled at her.

There was no telling how long Ron waited for Hermione to come back, but he worried for her and hoped she was all right. He prayed beyond anything else they wouldn't find anything, or at least if they did, that it was curable. A life without children, for them at least, didn't seem like much of a life at all. They wanted to be parents so badly, and watching others with children broke his heart.

When Hermione finally came out, a weary look on her face, Ron leapt up to hug her. "How was it?"

"Invasive," she said meekly. "They say they'll have the results in a few minutes."

Ron smiled. "That's good news, eh?"

"I suppose," Hermione said, folding her arms and taking a seat next to him.

"Mr and Mrs Weasley?" The same red-haired woman was standing outside the double doors again, urging them to come forward. They followed, Hermione leading the way, and entered into a small office just off the main double doors. "I'm Doctor Sheldon, please have a seat."

"So? What did you find?" Ron asked, eager for the results, anything just to get the agony over with.

Doctor Sheldon didn't look pleased. "I'm afraid we found a blockage in one of your fallopian tubes, Mrs Weasley. It's stopping anything being able to pass through."

Hermione gasped, but she didn't say anything. There were tears in her eyes and Ron squeezed her hand to comfort her.

"What can we do about it? It's curable, right? I mean, we can have children?"

Doctor Sheldon smiled weakly. "There are three options. Since only one of your tubes is blocked, we can give you some fertility drugs to try and increase the chances of pregnancy via the open fallopian tube. Your second option is to have selective tubal cannalation; it's non surgical, and we would be placing a catheter through your womb and cevix directly into your fallopian tube, to try and reverse the blockage. The final option is surgery. You'd be having a fimbrioplasty, which would repair the ends of your fallopian tubes."

Ron looked at Hermione to see if she had any ideas as to what to do. "What do you think?"

"I don't want the drugs," she replied. "We've been trying for so long now, and they may only increase our chances slightly. I'd rather have the surgery, to get rid of the problem once and for all."

Ron looked flabbergasted. "Are you sure? Surgery?"

Hermione nodded.

"There is a 60% success rate for a fimbrioplasty procedure," Doctor Sheldon encouraged. "The risks are minimal, and it's ideal for a young woman, like yourself, with no other fertility problems."

"Yes, I want to do that," Hermione repeated, and Ron still didn't know what to say.

Ron bit his lip nervously. "She'll be okay, right?"

"Mrs Weasley will be under general anaesthetic. She won't feel a thing, or remember the procedure at all."

Hermione gulped. "How quickly can I have the surgery?"

"I've had a cancellation, so there's an opening in three weeks. If that's too soon --"

Hermione shook her head wildly. "No, no, it's not. We'll take it. Don't, Ron."

Annoyed that she'd stopped him speaking before he'd even started, Ron huffed and relaxed in his seat. She didn't even seem to want his opinion, and though it was her surgery, he was her husband, and he wanted to make sure she would be fine. He knew deep down the only thing she really needed was support, so he brought himself around and smiled brightly at her as the Doctor continued to explain the surgery.

*

Ron held onto Hermione's hand tightly, making sure not to let go. They were sat outside the operating theatre, Hermione in her hospital gown, waiting for the surgeons to call her in. She hadn't been allowed to eat or drink anything for hours, so she was feeling weak and drained; just wanting to get it over and done with. He knew she was a brave soul, but the cracks were starting to show through her cool exterior, with her trembling hands and biting lip.

There was absolutely no way Ron was going to leave the hospital. The surgery was supposed to take at least an hour and fifteen minutes, but then there were always the preparations before and after. Hopefully there wouldn't be any complications. According to Doctor Sheldon, Hermione was a young, healthy woman, so there shouldn't be, but they had to be prepared, _just in case_.

That was what panicked Ron. He didn't know how he could handle it if he lost Hermione; she meant the world to him.

"We're ready for you now, Mrs Weasley," one of the surgeons said.

Ron stood up when Hermione did, pulling her into a tight hug before she went in there. "I love you, you know. I love you so much."

"I love you too, Ron," Hermione said softly, smiling weakly as she pulled out of his arms and made her way towards the operating theatre.

"Good luck!" he called after her. "I'll be right here when you get back."

Ron flicked through every magazine available while he was waiting for Hermione to come back. He was quite intrigued, to be honest, because those Muggles really had some gossip to tell. Half way through a story about a woman whose husband cheated on her with her son, he heard his stomach rumble and decided to get something to eat before the surgery was over. He had about half an hour left, but he didn't want to miss Hermione coming out if she was early.

Luckily, the hospital canteen wasn't far from the operating theatre, but that didn't stop Ron from grabbing his lunch and taking it back to the waiting room to eat there. It wasn't the best food in the world, but it would certainly do, and he ate it in silence. There didn't seem to be anybody else requiring surgery today, or at least not at that time. As Hermione would say, he ate like a greedy pig as he gobbled it all down, but it passed the time quickly enough.

"Hermione!" he called as she was finally wheeled out by a nurse. "Are you okay?"

The nurse nodded. "She's fine, she's just still under general anaesthetic. There were no complications and the surgery was successful. All she needs now is a bit of rest, and she can go home tonight if she feels up to it."

Ron followed the nurse as she took Hermione to a private room, his hands jittering in his pockets. "How long will it take her to come back round?"

"About half an hour, at the most an hour," the nurse replied, making sure Hermione was comfortable before she left. "Let us know if there are any problems."

"Thanks," Ron said, taking the chair by Hermione's side and holding her hand. "I love you," he whispered into her ear, patiently waiting for her to wake up again.

*

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked, smiling brightly at Ron. Since the surgery was a success, and it was revealed the chances of pregnancy were quite high, Hermione had become her old self again.

"I sure am," Ron replied.

"Back in a moment," she said as she went to piss on the stick that would tell them whether all their dreams had come true or not. Sometimes Ron could curse that stick.

"Let's hope it's positive this time," Ron said. Every month since the surgery they did a pregnancy test together; so far it'd been four months and there was no trace of a baby, despite the fact that were fucking like rabbits. It wasn't scheduled anymore though, much to Ron's delight. He could finally relax and enjoy it, and even better was that her kinky side was back in full force.

Hermione came out of the bathroom moments later, placing the pregnancy test on the counter in front of them. "And now we wait."

"Three minutes?" Ron asked, as they usually were.

Hermione shook her head. "No, one minute. I got a more expensive one this time. I had a feeling!"

Ron laughed. "Do you realise what you would have said if you'd heard Luna saying that?"

"Shut up! Oh, Ron, I think it's been a minute, but I can't look..."

Ron got off his seat and braced himself as he took a look at the pregnancy test in front of him. Upon seeing the result he gasped. "Hermione... it's positive! It's fucking _positive_!"

"We're having a baby?" she asked eagerly.

"We certainly are!" Ron screamed, grabbing her round the waist and swinging her around. "We're having a bloody baby!"

"I don't know what to say..." Hermione beamed. "I'm speechless!"

Ron laughed. "I hope it's a boy."

"Oh, no!" said Hermione. "I want a girl."

"Trust you," snorted Ron. "Come on. We have to tell my mum first or she'll nag us about it. Now, the reasons I want a boy first..."


End file.
